Mistletoe Mayhem
by Your Iron Lung
Summary: The holidays. Supposedly brings joy and celebration to everyone, but not to some. For some it brings and speaks disaster. For those who've been reading, I'm changing the plot a little, sorry! I forgot the disclaimer...again...I don't own FE.
1. Holiday Hatred

"I can't wait, can you?" Rolf exclaimed.

"No! The suspense is killing me!" replied Mist.

Holidays. They were coming back around this year and Ike and his friends were caught in its sometimes devastating fever. They were all excited and full of energy, eager for the Holidays to arrive. This was the only time a year when they cold spend outrageous amounts of gold on small, meaningless gifts, and not get in trouble! However, every group contains at least one person who can't stand the Holidays…

Volke leaned against a wall, arms crossed over his chest. If you didn't know Volke better, you would have assumed he was sleeping. Soren was secluded in his dark room, studying some ancient tomes. Neither of them could stand the hustle and bustle that came with the Holidays. They didn't care about the special bonds that drew friends together, either. As far as they were concerned, worship was not something they knew how to do.

The only thing that Volke received through the gift giving Holidays were headaches. Besides, if he did participate in the gift giving ceremonies, he'd have to spend his precious, precious gold, and that was something he didn't know how to do. He'd feel foolish, celebrating and getting drunk amongst people he didn't entirely trust. He shuddered at the mere thought of getting drunk and poor!

He hated the Holidays, absolutely _hated _them! He wished they would just never happen, that they would somehow be canceled. It would save him time, gold, sleep, sanity and dignity, not to mention his pride would be intact and his ego wouldn't be bruised. That's when it hit him. An evil, diabolical idea began to sprout inside his cunning and devious mind…

_Later that evening…_

The sound of a quill scratching on paper filled the eerily quite room. It was incredibly dark, but not dark enough to prevent him from writing. Every once in a while, the figure shrouded in darkness would release a soft but evil laugh.

Suddenly and without warning, the door to this dark sanctuary was opened, letting a trail of light hit the person crouched over his desk. He hissed as the light hit his eyes. He turned to look at the winged figure standing in his doorway. He quickly hid the paper he was writing on with a different sheet. He turned to look at the bird man.

"Volke."

"Janaff."

Silence.

"Mist wants to know if you'll be dining with her and the rest of the company."

"No, they'll give me a headache."

Janaff walked slowly further into the room, causing Volke to crouch over his work. Janaff grinned evilly.

"What do you have there, Volke?"

"Nothing."

"If it was nothing, you'd let me see it."

"Not gonna happen. Go eat some food, or whatever it is you birds eat."

Janaff remained still, the evil grin still on his face. An uneasy feeling was awakened within Volke, and he didn't like it. Maybe it was because Janaff was standing so close to him.

"You're in my personal space. Don't stand so close to me."

Janaff shrugged and stepped back a few paces, still craning his neck to see what it was Volke was trying to hide. Volke leaned further over it.

"Go away, I said!"

"Bah. Your no fun." With that, Janaff turned on his heels and left. Volke sighed and tilted his chair back onto it's hind legs. A sudden voice threw him off balance and sent him tumbling. The sound of rustling wings filled his ears as Janaff looked at what it was on Volke's desk.

"Hey, is that a drawing of me? Wow, that's pretty good! Might wanna work on those wings a bit more, though."

"I said get out!!!"

Janaff laughed and left. Volke quickly got up and shut the door. He was immediately enveloped in darkness. He tried to make his way back to his desk, stumbling a few times. He finally found a candle and lit it. The flame gave off an eerie glow as Volke picked up his chair.

"Damned bird brain…"

He looked down at what Janaff had mentioned. In his made rush to hide his evil plans to ruin the Holidays, he had replaced it with a sketch of Janaff he had done one day when he was bored. Nothing special. He ran a hand through his thick brown hair and sighed, once again repeating:

"Damned bird brain…"

_Elsewhere_

Titania, Oscar and Rhys were bustling about trying to put up some decorations. They hung wreaths on the doors and hung holly on the corners. Rhys reached into the box and withdrew a sprig of mistletoe. He looked at it uncertainly, unsure of whether to put it up or not.

"Hey, Titania? Should we put this up?"

Titania glanced at briefly and hung a wreath on a door.

"Of course! It'll be interesting to see who gets snared into its trap."

Rhys again looked at it uncertainly and shrugged. He attempted to hang it on the ceiling using a pin to secure it.

"To…high…Can't reach!"

Oscar plucked it from his hand and hung it above their heads.

"There," he said, wiping his hands together. "All done."

At that moment, a tiny spark of deviousness came into Titania's mind. She let an evil smile come upon here face. Both Oscar and Rhys gulped.

"Aha! The first victims!" she pointed to Oscar and Rhys.

"W-what?!" stuttered Rhys.

"Hold on a minute, Titania. That's hardly fair." Oscar began to counter, trying to escape this evil predicament.

"Uh-uh, not hearing any of that. I'm not letting you to leave until you complete the ritual."

"Titania, you are pure evil. Evil. Very evil." Oscar sighed and glanced at Rhys whose already pale face had gotten paler.

She shrugged and motioned for them to continue.

"No."

"Fine." She got up behind Rhys, who by the time figured out her motivations couldn't do anything to prevent it. She pushed Rhys onto Oscar and their lips touched.

"Ha! That wasn't so bad, now was it?"

"Easy for you to say…" Oscar's face was redder than red and Rhys looked as if he were about to faint.

"Don't say that, you know you enjoyed it!"

Oscar looked away and continued decorating. He muttered silently:

"Pure evil…"

_A few more victims later…_

Volke was looking over his diabolical plans yet again, smirking to himself. Foolproof! Simply foolproof! There was no way this could go wrong! He laughed to himself, thinking about how wonderful it would be to get a good nights sleep. At that moment, a knock came upon his door. He slipped his plans under his mattress and hesitantly answered the door. Janaff stood there.

Volke's eyes narrowed.

"What do you want, feather head?"

"I thought I'd be nice and warn you. Someone's been going around hanging mistletoe in random places, trapping people and making them kiss."

"Then go away. I don't want to kiss you."

Janaff fluffed his feathers and sucked in some breath.

"Well…I don't want to kiss you either!" He turned and stormed away.

Not far away, evil eyes gleamed mischievously.

"Ha hah…my next targets have been found…" The figure laughed evilly before slowly dissipating into the darkness.

Volke closed his door when a soft thump made him do a double take. He re-opened his door, and seeing no one, closed it again. Again, a soft thump was made. He quickly opened the door, determined to catch the person behind this. A wreath fell off his door when he opened it so fast. He looked down at it and scoffed.

"Who the hell put that there?" he kicked it down the hallway and went back to devising his evil plans.


	2. Awkward

"So…what'd you want to see me for, Lethe?"

"Quiet, Ranulf! You'll attract the mistletoe stalker!"

The two were sitting in an oddly dark, secluded room hoping that no one would be able to find them. Lethe's tail flicked in agitation.

"Right…right…" he lowered his voice "So; tell me again what we're doing here?"

Just a few minutes earlier Lethe had tugged on his sleeve, demanding he follow her, claiming the matter to be of the utmost importance.

"I've been getting this weird feeling lately…someone, one of our own, is conspiring against us."

"No way!"

"Yes."

Ranulf sat there looking stricken, trying to be overdramatic. He then yawned.

"You don't say…"

"Listen to me!" she hissed as Ranulf shot back into attention mode. "Someone is plotting something dreadfully evil…"

"What-" he didn't finish his question for he was so rudely interrupted. A light fell upon their hunched figures, causing them both to look up. A figure draped in black robes stood in the doorway. Ranulf got a sinking feeling and dared to look up.

"Just as I thought…damned mistletoe…"

"Nooooo!!!" Lethe bolted and tried to escape. Ranulf sighed miserably and got to his feet. Did kissing him really bother her that much? He quickly became upset that the notion of kissing him could really be that bad.

The voice that crudely flowed from the shadowy figure was raspy and cracked, it was unlike any voice Ranulf or Lethe had ever heard before.

"Not before it is done…" a robbed arm grabbed Lethe and threw her back towards Ranulf. It blocked the only way out and was determined to see the ritual completed.

Lethe was disgusted and upset that she should have to kiss Ranulf. She really didn't care for him in particular, but when it came to trusting Laguz, he was the one to go to. She glared at Ranulf he straightened his spine and demanded to know what was so wrong with kissing him.

"It can't be that bad!"

"Oh yes, it can."

"Why don't you want to kiss me?!"

"I don't think of you that way, and it's a disgusting thought…"

Ranulf fumed silently, angry that kissing him was such a nasty thought.

"Here, I'll prove to you that kissing me isn't _half _as bad as you make it seem!"

"No! Stay back! I command you!"

Despite Lethe's futile attempts at fending him away, he continued to advance upon her. She flailed her arms wildly, hoping that it would fend him away and not hurt him too seriously. He grabbed her wrists to stop the flailing and gave her a warm kiss upon her thin lips. He pulled back looking smug and victorious.

"See? I'm not a bad kisser!"

Lethe spit and wiped her mouth wearing a disgusted look.

"Blech! I NEVER want to talk to you again!" she stormed off in an immense rage.

Ranulf scratched his head and shrugged. It wasn't his fault if she didn't like his kissing. He looked back up to the ceiling, expecting to see mistletoe, but found none.

"That's weird…I wonder where it went…" he quickly scanned the floor to see if it had fallen to the floor. When it wasn't there, an eerie feeling began to arise…

Volke was pushed roughly aside by Lethe who was making her way to her room. Volke stared after her, angry that she had the nerves to push him aside as carelessly as one would toss out an old rag-doll. He was attempting to avoid other people, afraid that the mysterious mistletoe wielder would attempt at attacking him.

His stomach growled and he clenched it. He hadn't eaten in a while, afraid that if he went to dine with the others, he'd get caught by the mistletoe and he really didn't feel like kissing someone in front of others. He made his way steadily down the hall, making sure not to draw attention to himself.

While he was stalking the halls, he was debating with himself when the best time to enact his dastardly plan would be. He smirked at the thought of being able to get a good night sleep. He decided that it should probably be enacted late at night, when most of them would be asleep. He'd just have to avoid those few who didn't sleep, but that shouldn't be much of a problem.

He looked out a nearby window to see a fresh snow flurry. The white powdery flakes danced in the sky, landing gracefully on the stone cold ground. He heard faint laughter coming from outside and assumed that it was Rolf and Mist. He felt a small twang of guilt, but it, like snow caught by the hand, quickly melted.

He turned a corner and immediately leapt back around the wall. Zihark and Muarim stood, trapped by the black robbed creature that had previously gotten Ranulf and Leath. A small thing of mistletoe hung daintily above their heads.

The two stood there awkwardly, not sure of what to do. Muarim's face betrayed not a feeling of emotion whilst Zihark's was full of worry.

Finally, Zihark said something:

"Look, let's just get this over with quickly, ok? There's no one around…" Zihark glanced around nervously, his gaze drifting to where the robbed figure waited, eager in anticipation.

Muarim shifted his weight as in response. He was not too thrilled to have been trapped into kissing another man, let alone a Beorc man…Volke peeked his head around the corner to watch.

"Hurry, I have other victims waiting…"the voice croaked.

Zihark looked back to Muarim, who gazed down at him. They both registered immediately that Zihark had no chance of kissing Muarim; the height difference was too great. Muarim would have to do the kissing.

Muarim groaned mentally and sighed externally. He bent down and quickly kissed Zihark. He then came upright and walked off briskly, heading in Volke's direction. Volke looked around for a hiding spot. He found a slightly opened door and stealthily slipped in and quietly closed the door behind him.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Volke's heart jumped as he spun around to see who had spoken. He found Soren's icy glare upon him and gave a silent gulp. He was surrounded by books, books that Volke couldn't read. The various, oddly placed candles in the room gave off an eerie glow and made Volke feel uneasy. He didn't like mages…not in the least.

"I said, what the hell are you doing in _my _room?"

"Escaping."

"Escaping from what, pray tell?"

"…mistletoe madness…"

"What?"

Because Soren preferred to be secluded in his dark room with books, he didn't know what Volke had meant, as he was not up to date with what had been happening.

"You mean, you don't know?"

"Know what?"

"Some crazy fool has been going around cornering pairs of people with mistletoe and won't let them leave until they kiss!"

"And this happened to you just now?"

"No! I witnessed it is all!"

Soren closed the book that was spread out on his lap and continued to stare down Volke. He closed his eyes and sighed.

"Fine. Just get out and leave me alone."

"With pleasure." With that, Volke left Soren to do whatever it was he had been doing before he had intruded upon him.

"Weirdo…" Volke muttered as he made his way back to his own room, continuously on the look out for random sprigs of mistletoe that might come out of hiding.


	3. It's In the Air

"It…it was forced, right? I mean, it didn't mean anything, since it was forced…right?"

"Of course, unless, you _wanted _to mean something…"

"N-no! I mean…that is, uh…um…"

"Volke?"

Janaff looked down at his stuttering, red faced friend as he searched for the right words to explain his awkward feelings.

"Y-yes, Janaff?"

"Relax," Janaff took Volke's hand in his own and drew Volke close to him, his great eyes staring into those of the feathered Laguz. "And close your eyes…"

Volke closed his eyes and let Janaff gently kiss him.

"Woah!" said Janaff as he awoke with a start. He sat up in bed, breathing a little heavier then normal and stared at the wall opposite him with wide eyes, reliving the dream again. His breathing soon resumed its normal pace and he drew his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and resting his head upon them. He hadn't realized it before, but now he was certain of it: he loved Volke, he loved him a lot.

His cool hawk eyes closed as he continued to sit up, feeling his heart flutter at the thought of kissing Volke. How badly he wanted to! It overwhelmed him, and he found himself at a loss of what to do…

(T.T)

Around 9 that morning a sharp rap came on his door and he blinked his eyes blearily. He had fallen asleep at his desk while plotting to ruin the holidays. He rubbed his eyes as the sharp knock came on his door again, and he drew himself up.

"Yes?" He called out sleepily as he stretched his arms.

"It's Ike."

"Doors unlocked, Ike."

The blue haired mercenary slowly opened Volke's door and the sunlight temporarily blinded him. As his eyes adjusted, he found Ike staring at him angrily.

"What's wrong, Ike?"

Without answering Ike strode over to where Volke stood beside his desk and looked at the paperwork on its flat surface.

"What's this?" he said, gesturing to the misplaced papers, his eyes sternly looking at Volke.

Volke narrowed his eyes and took his mischievous plot off the desk and under his arm.

"Nothing that concerns you, Ike." He said with ice heavily laid in his voice, making it evident he was uncomfortable.

"Nonsense, we're a team, the Greil Mercenaries work together, so it can't be all that bad." Ike tried to take the papers from Volke, who hissed and backed up to the edge of his bed.

"These are for a different client, Ike, so it won't concern your little 'team'." Volke glared angrily at Ike, who returned the stare.

"Fine." Ike gave Volke one last glare before turning on his heels to leave. He stormed out of Volke's room and brushed past the feathered being who was about to enter.

Janaff peeked into Volke's room and found him staring angrily after Ike. He drew back and leaned against the wall and sighed. He placed a gloved hand over his forehead and smiled. That smile soon turned to laughter as Janaff's body trembled slightly with its force and he slid down the wall to the ground, laughing.

"What's so funny, bird?" said Volke as he investigated the odd noise coming from outside his room.

Between spasms of laughter, Janaff managed to stutter out a few words:

"Your…heh heh…your…mff ha hah! Your face! Hah ha hah!" and Janaff was sent back into his laughing fit.

Watching Janaff made Volke frown. Janaff was a prime example of why he couldn't stand the Holidays. However, as Janaff continued to laugh, his voice rising and falling, he couldn't help but smile. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair and sat beside Janaff.

"It was that funny, huh?"

Janaff nodded, still laughing.

"Huh…" Volke directed his gaze to the window that showed the wintry white world beyond. "I don't think I can ever remember a time when I brought someone this much joy…"

Janaff's laughter finally began to subside as he stared out the window Volke was watching. Janaff looked sheepishly at his friend, who, in return, gazed out the window. Janaff could feel his heart quickening and secretly hoped the mistletoe bandit would show up, giving him a reason to touch those cool lips with his own.

But the bandit did not appear, and Janaff felt saddened.

Volke finally got up and helped Janaff to get to his feet. As Volke made his way back into his room, Janaff quickly thought of something.

"Volke, wouldn't you want to join the rest of us for breakfast? You haven't been to many meals lately…"

"No thanks, Janaff, I'm not-" Volkes stomach growled loudly, as if on cue, and he clutched it "hungry…"

"Uh, um, if you're afraid of being caught by the mistletoe, I could bring you something…"

Volke looked at his friend who was blushing furiously and smiled.

"Thanks, I'd appreciate that, Janaff."

Janaff looked up and smiled at Volke before he made his way down to where the others were busy eating. Volke watched his friend go and smiled to himself, but that smile soon fell. He knew what Janaff wanted, and it hurt him. He caused pain to people, he couldn't bring himself to love anyone and had set up special barriers to help prevent that. But he had made a mistake. Those barriers were made for Beorc, he hadn't counted on a Laguz.


	4. Disaster is Sure to Follow

Janaff left Volke in his room to go get him something to eat and Volke went to sit at his desk. He characteristically ran his hand through his hair and let his gaze drift to the window. Snow was swirling every witch way, the sky growing dark. He got an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach as the wind howled noisily outside. A knock on the door drew him away from his thoughts and he rose from his chair to answer, thinking it to be Janaff.

He opened the door to find the dark haired mage standing there. A frown creased his face as the pale boy looked up at him.

"What do you want, Soren?"

"Ike sent me to investigate."

Volke scowled and made to close the door, but Soren caught it. The mage stared sternly at Volke and invited himself in. Volke blocked his path, catching the young man's arm, preventing him from going any farther into his domain.

"I don't think I said you could come in."

"I don't remember asking."

A chill wind blew past the two and Volke looked at his window, expecting it to be open. To his dismay, he found it to be shut tight. Another sinking feeling brewed in his stomach as he risked a glance to the ceiling. He shut his eyes as soon as he saw it. Soren, confused as to why Volke had closed his eyes, followed his gaze. A shadow emerged as Soren broke free from Volke's grasp, trying to escape the horrid predicament. As Soren turned to run, Volke caught a hold of Janaff's face, stricken with disappointment and sorrow. As Janaff and Volke's eyes met, the winged man turned and ran.

"No!" cried out Volke as he tried to chance after his friend. A shadowed hand clasped his shoulder and brought him back into the room, where Soren was held angrily.

They stood in a moment of awkwardness, the indistinguishable figure waiting in the poorly lit doorway. Volke didn't look at Soren, who lingered miserably in the corner.

"Look, I don't have time for this!" Volke announced crossly as he faced the eerie black figure. "Let me through!"

The shrouded figure didn't move, only pointed to Soren, gesturing for them to perform the traditional practice of the mistletoe.

"I can't do this!" he said infuriated. He looked past the supernatural figure and into the hall, looking for Janaff, who was nowhere in sight.

With a spine chilling touch, the ghostly figure pushed him back into the room. Janaff, who was hidden behind a wall, listened closely, fighting tears behind his eyes. He knew it wasn't Volke's fault, yet, he couldn't help but feel…late. If he had only been faster…it would be him Volke had to kiss, not Soren. He wasn't mad at Volke, how could he? No, he was angry with himself. He shouldn't have stopped to chat with Mist, if he hadn't…A single tear rolled down his face and he shuddered with self control.

"Just do it quickly…" Soren muttered as he turned away from Volke.

"What?!" Volke whipped around to stare desperately, almost pleadingly, at Soren who would not meet his gaze.

"The sooner the better." He whispered quietly.

"God _damn_! I thought you of all people, Soren, would be against this!" he exclaimed running a stressed hand through his hair, looking away. Slyly, Soren crept up and pecked Volke on the lips, completely throwing Volke off guard.

The shadowy figure dissipated and left the two of them to the silence of the blowing wind.

"The hell…" whispered Volke as he stared bewildered at the blushing mage.

"You'd better go after your bird-friend" he said softly pushing past the confused thief and out of the room.

Volke stared after the black haired mage for a while, until the words he had spoken finally sunk in. Volke ran to the place where he had seen Janaff before being imprisoned by the ghostly spirit. Janaff heard his feet pounding on the ground and got up hastily, knocking aside the plate of food he had gathered for his friend, and ran. Volke witnessed this and chased after him all the faster.

"Please Janaff! Wait!"

Janaff heard his shouts, but didn't want to. He didn't want Volke to see how jealous he could get, so kept running. Volke couldn't understand why Janaff was running, and assumed it was his fault.

"Stop Janaff! Please Janaff!" he reached out and touch Janaff's elbow. Janaff wrenched away, unable to comprehend why he was running anymore. The front door of the base was in his sights now and he wrenched it open, plunging through the snow that was now waist deep. The wind blew violently around him, his wings tossed around turbulently. Volke followed out behind him, the blizzard now in full swing.

"Janaff!" Volke's voice could hardly be heard of the shrill wind, yet Janaff heard. He even turned to face Volke before he spread his wings and was yanked away by the wind.

"Janaff!" screamed Volke as he watched his friend being carried away by the bone breaking wind into the dark clouds of the morning air, twisting violently.

Volke watched desperately, unable to do anything to help save his misunderstanding friend. He turned and ran back into the base, the voices deaf to his ears. He ran into his room and threw his papers to the floor in frustration. He sat at his desk, leg bobbing up and down rapidly as his hands wound their way through his hair. He tried to devise a plan, any plan. He felt panic as the wind howled louder then before outside.

Finally he got up and gathered some of his blankets and his pack. He ran into the kitchen and grabbed some food and shoved it into his pouch, rushing along hurriedly as he saw the snow blowing around rapidly. He left the kitchen and almost collided with Oscar.

"Going somewhere, Volke?"

His panic got the better of him as he ran his hand through his hair and stuttered.

"I-I-I got to go after him…I-I-I-"

"Who?" asked Oscar worriedly as Volke paced back and forth, eyes wide open with concern.

"Janaff" he moaned as he finally fell to the floor, letting a few tears come down his face. Oscar knelt down beside him and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Do you need help? I like to think of myself as a good tracker."

"You don't understand!" he wailed "He flew away! Spread his wings and flew away!" he started sobbing convulsively.

"I can still help, Volke." Said Oscar calmly, trying to get Volke to relax.

He gave a shuddering sigh and caught his breath.

"Alright…" said Volke at last, getting to his feet. Oscar rose up with him and helped pack the things they might need in their journey to retrieve Janaff.


End file.
